The Run
by Gumnut
Summary: "We have each other, their legacy and the means to stop it from happening to as many people as we can." SPOILERS FOR 3.18 Co-written with Scribbles97


Title: The Run

Part Three of the Avalanche Trio

Part One – Diversion by Scribbles97

Part Two – I Know by Gumnut

Authors: Gumnut & Scribbles97

Jul 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: "We have each other, their legacy and the means to stop it from happening to as many people as we can."

Word count: 3567

Spoilers & warnings: **SPOILERS FOR 3.18**

Timeline: Episode Tag

Author's note: Lookie! Scribbs and I wrote a fic together! This is the third fic in the triumvirate of Avalanche Episode Tags. We hope you enjoy this little fic :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.

-o-o-o-

As always Sally made sure she could locate all her boys on their return from a rescue. Gordon in particular had appeared exhausted, despite not having been directly involved. But today had been out of the ordinary. It was one of those rescues, one that brought up past issues, past pain and took all of them down.

As usual Gordon and Alan gravitated together. She was thankful they had each other. Each of the boys loved each other, but they also paired up for support. Alan and Gordon usually connived together, but at the same time, they also supported together.

The same could be said about the two eldest, but to her surprise, Virgil and Scott separated. Scott running off who knew where using the excuse of exercise, and Virgil disappearing into the bowels of the hangars.

Consequently, when John found her, she was uneasy.

"Grandma?"

"Oh, John." She reached up and wrapped her arms around her middle grandchild. God, he was tall. "Are you sure you've stopped growing?"

"Pretty sure I have." John had a gorgeous smile.

"How are you feeling?"

His eyes glanced at the floor. "Okay."

She sighed. "Somehow I don't entirely believe that."

He shrugged. "It is what it is. Not much I can do about it."

"How is Gordon?"

It was his turn to sigh. "Stubborn as any Tracy. I had to drag him down. He won't admit it, but he is exhausted."

"I'll keep an eye on him. Alan's with him in the meantime."

"Where are Scott and Virgil?"

She eyed him. "I'm a little worried."

An arched eyebrow. "That bad?"

Letting out a breath, she wrapped an arm around his...well, his waist, his shoulders were way beyond her. "Virgil did have to save Alan from an avalanche. I'm sure that is not a happy thought for either of them."

He was silent a moment. Quietly. "I saw."

"See if you can find him? See if he is okay?"

"Can do, Grandma."

She squeezed him tight a moment and, despite it all, he rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, dear. Call me if you need me. I'll check on Scott." She knew in likelihood John had already located both of his brothers, the astronaut was ever vigilant

A small smile, a nod and he turned away towards the elevator. She watched him as he left. John was the quiet one, but he was one of the strongest of them all.

Scott. She sighed. Scott ran himself into the ground. He was like a steam engine, a juggernaut forcing himself through whatever resistance he encountered. Virgil could usually corral him, direct his anger, calm him down. Everything that made Scott the powerhouse of a leader he was, worked against him in situations such as these.

So busy helping everyone else, he forgot to help himself.

He was out running. A coping mechanism.

It wouldn't be the first time she had had to run him down. Passing Jeff's desk, she pulled up his location on a map of the Island. Really? All the way over there?

Well, she hadn't run today. A little extra exercise shouldn't hurt.

Throwing on a pair of shoes, she started out with a slow jog, and using age as an excuse, she took a short cut.

-o-o-o-

It was a relief to get out of the house and run, to not have to put on a face for everyone that expected nothing but smiles and smooth lines from him. Running allowed him to breathe, to simply exist without the burden of responsibility and little brothers looking to him for, well, everything. He loved his brothers, loved that they looked up to him as they did, even if he wasn't always the best role model. After some rescues though, it just became too much to bear. There should have been someone else for them to look up to, older, wiser, more responsible people stood in his place with reassurance aplenty to dole out to younger brothers that needed it.

Like the thought was a stab in the heart, he stumbled, catching himself on a branch as he fell forward. He heaved for breath, leaning heavily on the trunk of the tree for support. The day was finally catching up to him in more ways than one, another reminder that he couldn't cope like he used to, that it had been so long since he had taken the reins.

Sinking down against the tree, he looked around, unsure when he had made it to the outcrop on the far side of the island. Autopilot must have taken over, it wasn't one of his usual spots, once upon a time it had been, when he had needed to escape less often. Since Dad had vanished though, the curved line of trees sheltering the rocky patch had been too much of a reminder for him to handle.

His head fell into his hands as he took a slow breath. He knew why he had ended up there, for the same single reason that always took him there those days; to be close to his parents.

That was why he was running. That was why he had needed to get out. That was why he couldn't face his family, not tonight.

Another avalanche, many years before with another helpless against its forces and no technology like the Thunderbirds to do anything about it.

What if Brandon hadn't remembered about Goose? They had no idea she was even there, just like when… he shook his head, clearing the thought.

They'd found her.

They'd got everyone out.

They'd all come home safe.

Folding over his knees, he clutched at his hair. So why wasn't it okay?

-o-o-o-

She took the run across the middle of the island. A jagged path cut solely for the purpose of access to the Island-wide monitoring system. The path was a little harsher than she was used to, the coastal run was much kinder, but it was necessary.

She finally hit the other side of the Island a little out of breath, landing in the centre of the gravel track with some relief. Sweat ran down her back and her heart was doing a great impression of Riverdance, but she was here. Eyeing the reef system below, she did a few mental calculations and turned to the right.

Giving her body a break, she walked off her pant, revelling in the thrum of the blood in her legs. It had been a while since she had pushed herself a little. It felt good.

Getting old seriously cramped her style. On occasion it was a fact she chose to ignore.

But Scott was along here somewhere, no doubt troubled after today's little episode.

Her pace quickened.

Until just around the edge of a bluff she caught sight of him, crumpled under a tree.

Oh, Scotty.

-o-o-o-

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, drawing him to sit up. Taking a deep breath he forced a tight smile though deep down he knew it wouldn't fool her. Grandma had known him his whole life and had been the one to bring up his father whom he so resembled. She gave him a moment, took a few steps towards him before she folded her arms and raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. When he had been a teen the look would have been completed with a cocked hip, but if she had hiked all the way up there, he knew her hip would be in no state to be forced into awkward stances. Still, he got the idea.

Grandma knew. Grandma always knew.

Not that that would stop him trying to play the whole thing off as nothing.

"It's a good day for a hike." He smiled, voice catching as he looked up at her, "I don't think you've been up here since…" Trailing off he frowned, unsure when Grandma had last been up here to what was, unofficially, Dad's spot.

"The other week," She filled in for him, "When we got the new footage from the zero-x."

Of course, it made sense. They had lost a father that day, but Grandma had lost a son. He didn't blame her if she ventured up here for the exact same reason he did. She had given up so much for them over the years, her traveling, then her life, then her home. The boys may have lost both parents, but it seemed to him that Grandma had lost so much more.

-o-o-o-

She eyed him. Sometimes Scott forgot that with age came a certain perspective. Sally had earnt her grey hairs, every one of them. Scott had a few of his own, but he had a way to go yet.

"You know, I never questioned your father regarding his choice of a tropical island as a haven. Didn't have to. I knew why. I think you do, too." She paused for breath, her eyes still on him. "From the moment they found your mother wrapped around Virgil in all that snow and ice...we'd all be happier if we never had to step foot on the stuff ever again."

She didn't mention her husband. She never mentioned her husband. Any more than Jeff mentioned his wife. There were some things that just…

Virgil was the survivor. The only one. The rest of them had to watch as so much had been taken away. Jeff...but he was not here. Scott...Scott ever the strong one, ever the leader. He had been so young.

A deep breath and she closed the steps between them, pulling up a piece of dirt beside her grandson. "Sometimes things just suck."

-o-o-o-

Scott would have perhaps chosen some more colourful words than those his grandmother had used but the point was there and, as always, she was right.

Things did suck.

They sucked royally.

"What did we do?" He sighed, bowing his head to look at the small mound of dirt his hand had been absentmindedly scraping together.

"What did we do for all this to happen? For Mom and Grandpa, the Hood, and then Dad. Why us? Even before IR Dad just tried to help those he could and still we get all this shi-" He caught himself as Grandma turned a glare towards him. Denied the outburst, his fist came down on the mound of dirt, leaving him with no real satisfaction and still feeling too much.

"It's not fair!" He snapped, looking out to the sea, calm and quiet despite the anger he had bubbling below the surface, "Why is it always innocents? People that do nothing wrong that get caught up in… in...everything!"

He swallowed, blinking hard against the wetness in his eyes.

"Mom was innocent. Dad wasn't perfect but he was innocent. Goose. Was. Innocent."

-o-o-o-

She reached over and cupped his scuffed hand in hers. "There are no answers, Scotty, dear. I'm so sorry. Sometimes...sometimes the only thing you can hold on to is hope." One hand held his fist, the other slipped up and around his shoulders. "God, fate, karma, whatever…" She sighed. "Fair just doesn't come into play." She hugged him close. "You know this. We live this." A stubborn exhale. "All we can do is get through it." She eyed him just a little. "And if that means occasionally falling in a heap, so be it."

Barely whispered. "That's what family is for. To pick up the pieces."

Scott rarely cried. She worried for him. Fretted at times, actually. The male stigma against emotion was the bane of the gender and their continued mental health. The four younger boys all had their moments. Privately, hidden, but they mostly let it out when forced to.

But Scott, tough, led by example Scott Tracy...

No.

Not even if he needed it.

She slipped her hand into his hair, ignoring his frown and flinch at her fingering his coiffure, and drew his head down to her shoulder. "Love you, Scotty."

-o-o-o-

He knew resistance was futile, but letting go wasn't quite so straight forward. Part of him wished it was, that would have meant he could have gotten it out of his system on his return flight and carried on as normal once he landed home.

Resting his head against his grandmother's shoulder, he felt a little bit more of the wall crumble. If he closed his eyes he could pretend he was a kid again, missing his mom and wanting things to go back to how they had been before Dad had started to spend all his time away. Things were simpler then, he had chosen to bear the cross of responsibility when he could have easily left it to the real adults at the time.

Except, this time, he was the real adult. He was the one expected to keep his cool and act like nothing in the world got to him. Just like Dad had.

Grandma was right though, how many pieces had there been to pick up when Dad had eventually broken? Scott hadn't been there to see most of it, Grandma had made sure of that… but was that what she meant by letting family pick up the pieces? Was she hinting that he was on the same path of self destruction that Dad had been?

He couldn't help missing Mom. He missed Dad too, but that was something he grieved much more often. Even though the hurt for their mother was rare, when it came it hit hard and left him gasping for air.

"Alan almost went under today," He whispered, unsure why he was saying it. Grandma had been there at the end of the comms, had seen everything and knew what had almost happened.

His nose was running, making him sniff and frown at the ground, "If anything happened to him, to any of them like it did Mom… I couldn't…" The words were gone, stolen from him by a sob that had wrapped around his throat and choked him.

-o-o-o-

"Oh, Scotty." It came out little more than a whisper. Her arms tightened around him, pulling him that touch closer.

He was so much bigger than she. She could remember a time where she held her first grandchild in her arms. A wriggly little ball of energy. The thought brought a smile to her face, but equally the thought of what that happy little boy had since faced in his life… "They're safe. They're safe. They were saved. You saved them. It worked." And it did. All of Jeff's dreams all his reasons for creating International Rescue, even if they never saved another soul, saving those lives from that avalanche, that is what the aim had been.

So another mother would not be taken from her children. Nor a father, brother, sister, daughter, son or anyone.

"There was no tragedy today."

"But-" He tried to interrupt only to be shushed again by a tight squeeze.

"There wasn't Scott, stop thinking of what ifs."

-o-o-o-

'What ifs' were perhaps his worst enemy, they would go around in his head night after night constantly nagging if he could have done something different or something better. Yet somehow, his grandmother had managed to silence those what ifs in a single sentence. She was right, nothing had happened, the day was a success.

"I just wish Mom…" He trailed off shaking his head. It was too painful to think of all of the things that might have been.

And that was the route of it all, what if someone could have saved Mom. It wasn't so much that he missed her, even though he did, it was the what if. It was the reason he and Virgil had gone their separate ways after the rescue, both with their own what ifs and old self blame. Time and age had brought them both to know better but such rescues would always throw them each for a loop until they rebalanced again.

-o-o-o-

Sally held her breath, hesitant. "What if it was meant to be?" Quiet, a little hoarse. "What if we lost so much so others could be saved?" She swallowed. "What if our sacrifices mean others don't. What if your mother is the reason why so many survived?" It was a thought that had both comforted her and cursed her over the years. Whether Scott had considered it...she wasn't sure. This family just didn't talk about Lucille.

It hurt too much.

Perhaps that should change.

"Your mother loved tea cosies."

"What?" Blue eyes looked up at her.

"Tea cosies. She was a tea drinker. Scorned coffee like it was the plague. She knitted all these odd tea cosies." Sally half smiled. "You father never understood that one, but being the man he was...well, he loved her for it anyway." A snort. "So many tea cosies."

She fingered her grandson's hair again. "She hated chilli or anything too spicy. Wouldn't go near it. Yet she loved Chinese food. She loved the cold, hated the heat. Her favourite dress had pink flamingoes dancing around the hem. She sang in the shower. Virgil gets his voice from her, if perhaps not, his love of coffee - that is pure Jeff." Her smile was wider now. "You have her hair." Her fingers stroked brunet strands. "Although Virgil has inherited so much from Lucille, each of you have a part of her. You have her hair and her smile, Scott." Her smile sobered a little. "We may have lost her, but honestly, she lives on in you boys. I see her every day."

Her finger left his hair and brushed against his cheek.

"And she would be so proud of you all."

-o-o-o-

He knew what Mom had been like, though the details had been foggy and unclear in his mind until Grandma had wiped the picture clear for him. It was true, _both_ of their parents would have been proud of them. He knew no matter where each of his brothers may have ended up, Mom and Dad would have been proud.

Grandma was right though, even though it tore him in two to admit it, Mom had to die. If she hadn't, he knew he would not where he was now, having done what he had today. It was to Mom that so many owed their lives, not just down to the TI Snow Bubble that most avalanche prone areas had eventually made mandatory, but to the conception and birth of the Thunderbirds. That something so amazing had been formed from such tragedy and turned into something so successful by the very children who had been left motherless, Scott knew that would make his parents beyond proud.

A heavy sigh left him, lifting some of the weight from his shoulders as it went. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back against the tree, "Can you tell me more about her?"

-o-o-o-

"Her favourite colour was green." She snorted. "As if Virgil would ever let us forget." A breath. "She was a great cook, she hated housework, but liked a clean house. With five of you running around, she nearly went batty. Why five? I never understood...then...now…" Her head dipped. "I have always been thankful for every one of you, but never so much after losing your parents and my...Grant." A swallow. She never said his name. His memory was something she clung to, but his name...it was like a talisman. "Your mother was an artist. She created music, paintings and you. You were everything to her."

"We have each other, their legacy and the means to stop it from happening to as many people as we can." Another pause as the words caught in her throat. "Never forget that, Scotty. You do good. So, so much good."

He shifted against her. She reached down and caught his hand. A glance of blue and she smiled just a little.

The waves below were a slow watery heartbeat.

"There was no tragedy today and it was thanks to your mother, your father, your brothers and you."

She squeezed his hand, desperate to make him believe, to reassure him, to release him from his grief.

A rock pigeon flew up the cliff and barrelled into the tree above them, rustling about and cooing. Sally jumped, startled out of her thoughts. Beside her, Scott tensed as if battle ready.

A sigh. "C'mon, Scotty, you gonna help an old woman to her feet."

An eye and an arched eyebrow. "Sure. Show me one and I'll give her a hand. Would you like one, too?"

"Nice comeback."

A snort.

"You can give me a hand anyway. I think my joints have frozen in place."

He shot to his feet obscenely fast. She flung him a glare as he offered his hands. Getting old was a pain in the everything. Several creaks and groans and she was ambulatory. She took a couple of steps to loosen things up. "See you back at the ranch?" She eyed him.

He hesitated, she could see it in his face. Just as she saw it replaced by resolution. "Actually, Grandma, can I walk with you?"

She smiled and held out a hand. "C'mere, Scotty. Let's go home."

And if she happened to mention some long lost facts along the way...well, Jeff and Lucy...and Grant...had left her to look after these wonderful boys, and that's what she planned to do.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
